Here are some things that are not abandoned in Detroit’s handsome downtown. Photo: ASSOCIATED PRESS

On a solo bike ride along the fringes of downtown Detroit, gliding past the ghostly shells of buildings long since abandoned, two things occurred to me: One, these buildings are really spectacular. Two? I am riding my bike on the sidewalk. Something I could never do in New York.

The reason was simple enough. When touring a city of about 700,000 people that was built to hold at least 1 million more, you can go ahead and take all the space you need.

The streets may have appeared a little lonely at first, but when I did encounter people, they seemed extraordinarily cheerful and friendly. As I biked past total strangers walking their dogs, or chatting with their neighbors, they unfailingly looked up and waved, like we were in a small town. Maybe that’s the best way to sum up what I saw in Detroit. One part urban blight. One part something like buried treasure. And really, really friendly.

Detroit is not a place I had ever felt compelled to visit, but these days, it’s hard to open a magazine or newspaper without seeing yet another article on the Motor City. Some of them say it’s the end, almost reveling in its death, celebrating the abandonment. Others insist this is a town poised for a comeback, some say it’s already coming back and is being ruined by hipsters; still more don’t know what to think. Which is why I was here — I simply wanted to see this big old metropolis for myself.

On arrival, I did the same double-take most people seem to do when they get here: Detroit is one of the country’s most handsome cities, brimming with great architecture. Yes, some of it’s empty — like, say, the magnificent Michigan Central Station in Corktown, which hasn’t had a train pull out since the 1980s, but manages to remain one of the city’s premier attractions. (Imagine if Grand Central, designed in the same style by the same architectural firm, was abandoned; this gives you an idea of just how big and impressive a building we’re talking about.)

But it’s not all ruins, a fact that often manages to get lost in Detroit’s sometimes heavily-dramatized modern-day narrative. It’s rare to find an American building as beautiful, or loved, as the almost Los Angeles-esque, Mayan Revival 36-story Guardian building (finished in 1929). Then there’s the Fisher Building, Albert Kahn’s 30-story Art Deco masterpiece. And Mies van der Rohe’s minimal (and very affordable) townhomes, part of his Lafayette Park redevelopment project, steps out of busy Greektown. All of this stuff will set architecture and design nerds drooling. (Said nerds are encouraged to stay at the Book Cadillac Hotel, a 453-room Neo-Renaissance skyscraper built in 1924 that reopened in 2008 after a $200 million renovation. It now flies the Westin flag.)

And then there’s the culture. I was taken aback by the Detroit Institute of the Arts; not only was there a handful of Van Goghs (including his famous mailman), as well as Monets and Rembrandts, but it’s home to one of Diego Rivera’s most famous murals, “Detroit Industry” — a mammoth 27-panel fresco of Detroit’s Rouge Plant that was commissioned by Edsel Ford, despite the fact that Rivera made little attempt to conceal his political preferences.

The spirits of the great metropolis of yore seem to be around every corner. No one needs to coax R&B aficionados to see where Diana Ross, Marvin Gaye, Gladys Knights and the Pips, the Jackson Five and Stevie Wonder all got their start, at Berry Gordy’s “Hitsville U.S.A.” Motown Museum. (The house isn’t exactly overflowing with memorabilia, but Michael Jackson did donate a rhinestone glove.)

Of course, Detroit’s past is fascinating, but its present can be just as compelling. To see the city at its best, right in the here and now, spend time in the historic Eastern Market district, a thriving (and growing) neighborhood that lures thousands each Saturday to a festive event showcasing the wares of hundreds of producers from around the region. I went the weekend before Mother’s Day, and the flowers were set out by the acre.

Impressive, sure, but perhaps the most memorable moment of that weekend had to be a visit to Comerica Park, the 41,000-seat stadium built downtown in 2000. The Tigers were the losing end of a long game against the Chicago White Sox. In the ninth inning, the Tigers were down 3 to 4 when Jhonny Peralta got up and knocked a game-winning walk-off home run into the stands, to win the game, 5 to 4. You could hear the city roar.